Kanade never expected his first experience in a "shuraba" (dramatic love triangle scenario) to involve another boy. Thankfully, Ishigami didn't say the classic line, "I was here first," sparing them from a painful "White Album"-style confrontation. Small blessings.
After fulfilling Ishigami's request by calling him "Yu" once, Kanade witnessed Ishigami's immediate discomfort.
"It feels weird—like, gross even. It's making my scalp tingle," Ishigami complained.
Kanade was speechless. He barely resisted the urge to retort, "And whose fault is that?"
In the end, Ishigami reverted to asking Kanade to simply call him by his last name, and Ishigami continued addressing Kanade as "President."
With that, the student council's mini-crisis was resolved—assuming one ignored Fujiwara Chika's sudden tantrum.
"That's unfair! Even Ishigami gets called by his name, so why haven't I?!" The pink-haired "octopus" puffed up indignantly. "Yada, yada, yada! I refuse to be excluded!"
Kanade: "..."
Just as Kanade opened his mouth to say something, Ishigami cut in ahead of him.
"What do you mean 'even Ishigami,' Fujiwara-senpai? Don't underestimate the bond between the President and me, okay?! Besides, making such unreasonable demands only puts the President in an awkward position! Honestly, you're just throwing a tantrum like a child. My evaluation: elementary schooler—no, even elementary schoolers wouldn't act this spoiled. You're a total scrub, Senpai."
Not only did Ishigami openly mock Fujiwara, but he also glanced at Kanade as though seeking approval, putting Kanade in an awkward spot.
Even if we all agree, you don't have to say it so bluntly…
Unsurprisingly, Fujiwara couldn't handle such direct criticism. She puffed up like a pufferfish, but since she couldn't win an argument with Ishigami, she eventually resorted to crying into Kaguya's shoulder.
Kanade, feeling compelled to intervene, tried to smooth things over.
"Ahem… No need to go that far, Ishigami. I think Fujiwara—uh, Chika—might just be afraid of being left out," Kanade said hesitantly. Fujiwara's carefree attitude usually made him think she wouldn't care about something like this, but since she brought it up, it wasn't a big deal to indulge her request.
After all, it was just a change in how he addressed her. True closeness wasn't about something as superficial as names.
Kaguya, who had been quietly comforting Chika, shot Ishigami a look that clearly said, That's enough.
Normally, Kaguya would have supported Ishigami. After all, as a girl, she preferred being the only one Kanade addressed intimately. But today, her mood was unusually good. The President had called her by her name earlier, and he clearly maintained a formal attitude toward everyone else. That small gesture of special treatment had already made her feel satisfied, so she didn't mind giving Chika a tiny bit of indulgence.
After all, Chika was her close friend. Even Kaguya couldn't bear to watch her be bullied endlessly.
With this tacit agreement between Kaguya and Kanade, Ishigami reluctantly stopped his verbal assaults.
Revitalized by the ceasefire, Fujiwara bounced back quickly. It was as if the skies cleared and her energy returned. She even began provoking Ishigami again:
"Hmph! My name rolls off the tongue much more smoothly, doesn't it? And it doesn't make anyone feel embarrassed! President, call me a few more times so someone here can feel properly jealous!"
"..."
This girl was bold, showing no sign of the tears she had just shed.
Naturally, Kanade didn't comply, as Ishigami quickly shut her down with another string of sharp retorts. And so, the student council returned to its usual chaotic rhythm.
Noon Break
The morning classes passed in the blink of an eye, and soon it was lunch break.
Hoping to tackle leftover student council work, Kanade brought his bento to the council room, planning to eat while strategizing—saving time where he could.
As always, Kaguya was already in the room before him.
"Good afternoon, Kaguya," Kanade greeted her first.
"Good afternoon, President," she replied, her demeanor as graceful as ever.
Kanade nodded and took his seat at the head of the table.
It was such a routine occurrence that Kanade didn't bother questioning why Kaguya spent her lunch breaks in the council room. He had wondered before, but the only response he'd ever received was a cryptic look. His best guess was that she had no one else to eat lunch with and had crafted the image of a "workaholic" to make her solitude less noticeable.
In the past, her predictable behavior had been convenient for his "strategic plans," but now it only highlighted her loneliness. Kanade wasn't in the council room as often these days, making her solitary presence feel even more pronounced.
"Would you like to eat together, President?" Kaguya asked, lifting her bento slightly as an invitation.
"Sure, let's eat together," Kanade agreed without much hesitation. He adjusted his priorities for the moment, setting aside more involved tasks in favor of simpler ones that only required a quick review. It wasn't the politest gesture, but it would have to do.
Thankfully, Kaguya was incredibly understanding. She didn't mind Kanade multitasking during lunch. In fact, she even offered to help.
"It's fine; don't trouble yourself. I can handle this," Kanade declined. He didn't want to burden her further—she was already busy enough. If he relied on her too much, it would undermine his role as the council president.
Kaguya didn't push further, knowing how stubborn he could be.
As they ate, Kanade made sure to engage with Kaguya's conversation topics. Whether it was serious suggestions like "Should we issue a notice to curb the students' gossiping?" or lighter comments like "Chika seems to have gained weight recently—at this rate, she'll just keep getting bigger," Kanade responded attentively. He wasn't completely neglecting her while working.
However, this also slowed down his eating considerably. What should've been a quick meal stretched on and on. By the time Kaguya declared she was "full," Kanade realized his bento was still mostly untouched—only about a third of it had been eaten. The food had even gone cold.
I guess multitasking does have its drawbacks, Kanade thought wryly. Juggling so many tasks wasn't as efficient as he hoped.
Kaguya seemed a little concerned. Watching him struggle with his food, she said softly, "The food is going to get completely cold… Maybe you should focus on finishing your meal first, President?"
"Mm… It's fine, I'm almost done," Kanade responded without lifting his head.
Kaguya, unsure how to handle the situation, sighed quietly and picked up her phone. When in doubt, consult Doraemon for advice, she thought.
"Hayasaka, Hayasaka! What should I do? The President isn't eating; he's just working non-stop. If this keeps up, he'll ruin his stomach, right?" Kaguya typed anxiously. She knew all too well the consequences of neglecting one's health—her own stomach was often a source of trouble.
"?"
That was Hayasaka's first response. Before Kaguya could wonder what it meant, a follow-up message arrived:
"Just go feed him directly. He can't handle that kind of approach."
"???"
Kaguya blinked, her face flushing as her imagination ran wild.
Feed him directly? Her? Was Hayasaka serious?!
Kaguya stole a quick glance at Kanade, relieved to see he was still focused on his work. Letting out a small sigh, she began to envision the scene Hayasaka had suggested—leaning close to him, softly saying "ahhh" as she fed him a bite of food filled with her feelings…
No, no, no! That's way too embarrassing!
Would Kanade even survive such a bold move? Never mind him—she wouldn't survive!
"Isn't there a simpler way to handle this?" Kaguya typed back, her face crimson.
"6."
Hayasaka's cryptic response was followed by a more detailed suggestion:
"Snatch whatever he's working on, then order him to eat. Refuse to give it back until he does."
"Isn't that just unreasonable and childish?!" Kaguya protested. The idea clashed with her dignified, elegant image—such behavior would make her seem brutish!
"Then act cute and ask him directly. Say, 'Stop focusing on trivial work and pay attention to me while we eat!' That should get his attention."
"..."
Kaguya froze.
No way! That's even worse than the first suggestion!
She reconsidered, realizing that snatching his work might actually be the better option—it wouldn't destroy her image completely, and it was less embarrassing than the alternative.
"Is there really no other option?" she asked, frowning in frustration.
"There's no other way, Ojou-sama. To get through to a workaholic, you need a strong approach. Good luck! I've got something to handle, so I'll leave you to it."
With that, Hayasaka ended the conversation and stopped responding to Kaguya's messages.
Left to her own devices, Kaguya sighed and weighed her options.
The second suggestion was impossible. It clashed entirely with her refined image. The third was even more absurd—there was no way she could bring herself to act that shamelessly. Feeding him directly… Well, that was still embarrassing, but it seemed like the least bad option.
It's not like I want to do this… she thought, trying to justify it to herself.
After taking a deep breath to steel her nerves, Kaguya finally spoke:
"You're such a handful sometimes…"
But before she could fully articulate her intent, she noticed Kanade setting aside his work and picking up his bento, ready to start eating properly.
Kaguya: "..."
Ugh! So frustrating!
Kanade, noticing her complicated expression, tilted his head curiously. "What's wrong? Do you have something to say?" he asked.
"No… it's nothing," Kaguya replied reflexively, shaking her head. Of course, she couldn't tell him what she'd been thinking.
Still, she felt a pang of disappointment. She'd gone through so much mental preparation, and now it felt wasted.
But after mulling it over, she decided she couldn't let the moment pass entirely—it would feel like a waste of effort.
Determined, Kaguya pressed her left hand to her cheek, adopting a calm demeanor. "Actually… I'm already full. Lately, I've been managing my diet. But there's still a lot of food left in my bento, and I can't bear to let it go to waste. Would you mind helping me finish it, President?"
As if worried he might refuse, she quickly added, "Of course, I haven't touched any of it. But if you're uncomfortable with the idea, that's fine too."
Kaguya's mind worked with perfect clarity.
First, she explained her own condition—she was full—emphasizing that her reluctance to waste food was out of principle. This shifted any "blame" to her household's overly generous chefs while showcasing her responsible habits. Then, she made her request in a polite, understated way. Finally, she threw in a preemptive disclaimer, appealing to Kanade's personality—she knew he'd feel obliged to accept.
I'm a genius! Kaguya thought triumphantly.
She wasn't going to stop there. If feeding him directly wasn't feasible, she'd settle for indirect contact. A… partial victory, so to speak.
Kaguya watched Kanade expectantly, her eyes practically begging him to agree.
The intensity of her gaze made Kanade pause. He could practically hear her unspoken words: Say yes, say yes, say yes…
It felt oddly sinister, like a devil's whisper tempting him.
Is there some kind of hidden meaning behind this? Kanade wondered. But since Kaguya had already eaten from the bento herself, there shouldn't be an issue. The most plausible explanation was…
She made this herself?
During the forest school trip, Kanade had taught Kaguya a few basic cooking skills. It hadn't been long since then, so it seemed unlikely she'd already mastered making a bento. But this was Kaguya Shinomiya—her natural talents were no joke. It wasn't impossible for her to have crafted a proper meal by now.
Maybe she wants me, her teacher, to taste her cooking and offer encouragement? Kanade thought, nodding inwardly.
"Sure, leave it to me," he said aloud, picking up a meatball from her bento.
If there was one thing Kanade understood, it was "tasting heartfelt food." He'd done something similar with Yukino's cookies just days ago—eating on the spot and offering genuine praise, even if the taste wasn't particularly amazing.
But to his surprise, the meatball was excellent—well-seasoned, with perfect texture. It didn't taste like a beginner's work at all.
"This is really good. You did a great job," Kanade said, genuinely impressed.
Kaguya blinked, looking a bit puzzled. Something about this wasn't going as she'd imagined.
Oh well, she thought. As long as the President is happy, that's what matters.
Smiling, she quietly watched Kanade eat. But the more she watched, the more she felt herself falling deeper into her emotions. She had to maintain her composure to avoid losing herself.
Kanade quickly finished his meal once he focused on eating. In no time, both his and Kaguya's bentos were empty.
Her improvement is incredible, Kanade thought. In just a few days, she'd gone from beginner to near-expert. The only downside was that the food had cooled, likely affecting the original flavor.
"I'm full now. Thank you for the meal," Kanade said, placing his hands together in gratitude.
This was a pleasant experience, far from the horror of tasting someone's "killer cooking." He felt genuinely thankful.
"By the way, how's your foot? Has it healed yet?" Kanade asked, starting up some small talk.
Kaguya blinked, summoning a sudden burst of courage from who-knows-where. With a calm expression, she replied:
"If you're that concerned, why don't you check it yourself, President?"
"...Huh?" Kanade froze, completely baffled.